Lead Me
by lizzagna
Summary: Moments between Draco and Astoria, bouncing back and forth from their days at Hogwarts to their marriage.
1. A Matter of Concern

**A/N: **Moments between Draco and Astoria, bouncing back and forth from their days at Hogwarts to their marriage. My HP trivia is a little rusty, so bear with me, hm? Reviews would be lovely, thanks! **Edited 2/7/13**

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**Winter, 1997**

Astoria trailed behind Daphne and Millicent, her sister's robes dragging in the snow. Daphne had insisted Astoria wear something of hers, but Daphne refused to believe that her robes were a bit long on Astoria.

Hogsmeade was packed with seventh years on this Friday evening, and Astoria wished she'd brought Malcolm with her. As much as she liked her sister's friends, she had a feeling some of them didn't like her as much.

Some of them being Pansy.

"Astoria, stop lagging," Daphne called over her shoulder as they entered the Three Broomsticks.

Inside at a table in the far corner sat Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. Crabbe immediately caught Astoria's eye and waved.

Astoria ducked her head and followed her sister. Ever since the Yule ball, Crabbe had developed a bit of a crush on her, and she was embarrassed whenever he expressed these feelings in public.

Daphne, being as pushy as she was, forced Astoria to sit on the edge of the booth next to Crabbe.

"'ello, Astoria," Crabbe said with a toothy smile, scooting closer to her.

"Hello," She said quietly, already feeling a little uncomfortable.

After a few failed attempts to make conversation, Crabbe gave up and began talking to Blaise, who was seated across the table.

Astoria sat silently, listening to the buzzing conversation around her. Someone handed her a butterbeer, and she looked up, surprised to see Draco Malfoy. "For me?" She asked, glancing subtly at Pansy.

"No, I bought it for my ex-girlfriend," Draco said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Astoria would have thought him serious if it weren't for the sly smile on his lips. "It's for you," He said again, his smile turning into a smirk.

Astoria blushed and took the mug. "Thanks," She managed to say. She took a sip of the warm drink and sighed.

"Come on, move over," Draco said, giving her shoulder a nudge.

She scooted to her left, closer to Crabbe, so Draco could squeeze onto the edge of the bench. He lifted his arm and rested it on the top of the seat behind her, and Astoria told herself it was only so he could have more room.

The conversation at the table was revolving Quidditch, as usual. "I don't know about you, but Warrington has been completely worthless this year," Draco muttered, taking a big drink of Astoria's butterbeer.

Astoria frowned, not used to boys drinking from her cup, and she looked over at Daphne to see if her sister made anything of it.

Daphne was wearing a strange, unreadable expression, her eyes darting back and forth from Draco to Astoria, and Astoria felt her cheeks burn.

Blaise spoke up. "Well, Draco, you haven't exactly been showing up to practices lately, with your new hobby and all."

All conversation at the table ceased, as everyone heard Blaise's jab and gaped at him, open-mouthed, Draco included.

He quickly composed himself and sneered. "Funny, Blaise, that you're so quick to judge, seeing as you've never played a minute of Quidditch in your life."

Everyone remained silent, and Draco got up from his seat. "I'm leaving," He said sharply. He held out his hand to Astoria, who looked at him as if he was mad. "Well, you coming, Greengrass?"

Astoria glanced at Daphne, who was still wearing that unreadable expression, before she took Draco's outstretched hand and let him yank her to her feet. She followed him out of the pub and onto the street.

They walked in silence for a few moments, their intertwined hands swinging between them. After a few silent minutes, Astoria spoke. "Blaise is a bit thick sometimes; don't let him get to you."

Draco looked down at her with his sly smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," She said quietly. She remembered something he'd said in the pub, then. "When you said your ex-girlfriend, were you—"

"I broke up with Pansy weeks ago, Astoria."

"But Pansy didn't say anything—"

"Of course she didn't," Draco said, smirking. "She wouldn't want anyone to think she got the boot, would she?"

Astoria nodded. "Poor girl. She really fancied you, Draco. I hope you weren't too harsh."

"Are you sticking up for Pansy Parkinson?" Draco asked.

"She's not all bad, I'm sure."

Draco chuckled and nodded. "I suppose."

He looked off down the lane at a group of squealing fourth years exiting Honeydukes. When he looked back at her, his expression had turned serious, as it always did when he was thinking about something. "Astoria," He said quietly.

She liked the way he said her name. It rolled off his tongue in a deep baritone voice as smooth as butterbeer, and the way his lips tugged up at the corners gave her a fluttery feeling in her stomach. She knew she was mad for thinking such things because this was _Draco Malfoy_, sixth year Death Eater who despised just about everything.

Draco continued. "Do you remember your third year? When you snogged that bloke who was a year younger than you?"

Astoria couldn't have turned any redder had she tried. "Malcolm is my friend," She defended.

"Doesn't make a difference. You still snogged the git."

She scowled. How dare he insult her friends and mock her. "It was a silly bet, and as I said before, it's none of your concern!"

"Have you ever gotten a _real _kiss, Astoria?" Draco said, leaning close.

"It's none of your concern," She repeated, a little nastier than she meant it. She was cold and angry, and she just wanted to go back to the pub where Daphne was. She yanked her hand out of his and decided to do just that.

She was a fool to ever think that he was anything more than a heartless twat, but surprisingly, before she could get too far, Draco gently clasped her arm and tugged her backwards. He bent down, his face inches from hers, and said, "Yes, Greengrass, I think it _is _my concern."

Then he kissed her.


	2. The Unpleasant Owl

**A/N:** Thanks to **writingismypassion27**, **rainbowspring**, **OhMyJonasHP**, and **SecretEcrivain** for the kind reviews! I'm not sure how this is going so far or where it will lead. I also forgot to mention that the title and the lyrics in the first chapter are taken from the song "Lead Me" by Sanctus Real. It's kind of a Christian song but I just loved it too much for Draco/Astoria. Give it a listen and see if it fits! Reviews are, of course, always appreciated.

**Edited 2/7/13**

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**Winter, 2005**

After the war, Astoria finished her last years at Hogwarts and moved into a flat in London. She spent most of her time at St. Mungo's, however, receiving a job in the Admissions Department.

She kept in touch with Daphne and Pansy if for no other reason than to please her mother. Melinda Greengrass was oblivious to the differences between her two daughters and continually forced them together for a monthly brunch.

Daphne had married a Pureblood wizard named Albion Sage, whom Astoria immediately disliked for his lack of chivalry and bitter resentment for the peace that followed the second war. But for her ailing mother, Astoria was pleasant.

It was on a Tuesday morning as Astoria was getting ready to apparate to St. Mungo's that she received an owl from her mother. It read:

_My dear Astoria,_

_I regret to inform you that I will be unable to attend brunch with you and Daphne this Saturday morning. I still expect you to be at Gulliver's at 11 o'clock sharp as your sister will be waiting._

_Regrets and much love,_

_Your mother._

Astoria slammed the letter down on her counter so hard her mother's owl, Queening, squawked from his perch on the window sill.

"Sorry, Queenie," She muttered, scanning the note once more. Her mother's careful, purposeful handwriting mocked her irritatingly. Brunch alone with Daphne! Did her mother wish one of her daughters dead?

She quickly scrawled a sloppy note to her mother saying she'd be at the restaurant at the decided time and gave it to Queening. Sending him on his way, she shut the small window and apparated to work.

St. Mungo's Admissions Department was a fancy name for a reception area. Witches and wizards apparated in and out of the office to check in or sign out. It was a dull job, but Astoria liked the mindless busy work.

"Morning, Elsie," She said to the young witch who worked the Admissions Department with her.

Elsie Mockridge was a year older than Astoria but at least six inches shorter. She had curly blonde hair and impish features, making her look much like a child. To make up for her youthful attributes, Elsie dressed in risqué, outlandish dresses with heels that _looked_ like they hurt.

"You're late," Elsie said, pursing her lips disapprovingly. She plucked her quill from the wild pile of curls on top of her head and began scribbling notes on a patient's file.

Astoria rolled her eyes and sat down at her place at the large reception desk. "My mother sent me an owl right as I was leaving."

"Brunch?" Elsie guessed.

Astoria sighed in reply. "She can't even make it, but she insists I go regardless. Now I have to spend an entire hour with _Daphne_."

Elsie clucked her tongue. "Daphne's not too horrible," She said. She quickly continued when Astoria gave her a pointed look. "You two used to get on so well! I just think you've been so hard on her since the wedding."

Astoria frowned, grabbing a stack of files to store away later. _The wedding_. The very memory made her cringe. She just wanted to forget about the entire affair, and the events leading up to it. Astoria—to Elsie's horror and her mother's disapproval—had not been chosen to be the maid of honor. Instead, Daphne chose her long-time friend Pansy Parkinson.

It caused quite the uproar between Daphne and her mother, but Astoria just wanted to get through the whole ordeal in one piece. She wore the ghastly green bridesmaid's dress and smiled through pictures and watched Albion drink more firewhiskey than any wizard should, all the while fending off Daphne's questions on the whereabouts of a certain blonde wizard.

Somewhere deep down, Astoria knew Elsie was right. Maybe she was being too hard on Daphne, but she'd never noticed until Elsie had said something. And Astoria knew things were bad when Elsie started making sense.


	3. Prefect Duties

**A/N:** More thanks to **Astoria Clare** and **Coliekinz** for their reviews! The following chapter is in Draco's point of view, and you might remember it from some foreshadowing earlier in the story. It's a bit longer than the other one, hopefully you'll enjoy.

Also, if you could let me know how you like the idea of switching POVs back and forth between Astoria and Draco or just sticking to Astoria's, that'd be awesome. Reviews are always appreciated!

**Edited 2/7/13**

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**Fall, 1996**

Draco stood outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room, listening to the water drip from the ceiling of the dungeon. He never told anyone—obviously—but he was somewhat concerned that one day the roof would collapse, water from the lake would pour in, and everyone would drown.

He tapped his wand in his spare hand, eyeing the ceiling with disdain. How he dreaded prefect duties. He could be asleep at that moment, but he was wide awake waiting for Pansy to do whatever it is Pansy does to get ready for prefect duties.

"All set?" A high-pitched voice asked.

Draco looked down at Pansy and nodded. Without waiting for a response, he stalked towards the school grounds. He barely noticed Pansy almost panting to keep up—hell, he barely noticed _Pansy_.

When they reached the entrance to the Great Hall, little Percy Weasley was waiting for each pair of prefects with the night's patrol duties. He called out assignments with an air of superiority.

Draco wanted to punch the freckle-faced redhead when he sneered Draco's name. Tosser.

He and Pansy were assigned the east wing and the astronomy tower. Again, Draco left without waiting to see if Pansy was following. He decided to take the right side of the wing—towards the astronomy tower—and directed Pansy to go to the left.

"Aren't we supposed to stay together?" Pansy purred, leaning against the stone wall.

Draco grinned despite his annoyance. He knew Pansy was looking for a quick snog before they began patrolling, and he also knew she'd do whatever she could to get it. Pansy was irritating, selfish, confident, and snarky—much like Draco. She grinded his gears so often he didn't know how he stood being around her, more so how he could date her.

"Don't be so cold, Draco," She said quietly, her voice echoing through the silent corridors. "Come here."

He did as she said, marching right up to her until their chests were pressed together. Before he could so much as blink, Pansy grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him. He wasn't surprised—it was Pansy's way after all.

A few minutes later, Draco stepped away from her and headed towards the astronomy tower, leaving Pansy to recover on her own because frankly, he couldn't stand the adoration in her eyes when she looked at him after they kissed. Not because her affections were annoying—even though occasionally they were—but because he probably didn't deserve them in the first place.

That being said, if Draco was someone else, he wouldn't be friends with himself, but he didn't really have time for self-loathing until he finished his prefect duties.

The east wing was usually quiet, but every once in a while a prefect would find a few giggling fourth years or some seventh years pulling tricks or sharing firewhiskey. As Draco walked up the stairs of the astronomy tower, he didn't see anyone who shouldn't be awake.

"My mates all tease me."

Draco stopped short at the boy's voice and listened.

"Don't let them get to you."

He recognized the second voice as Daphne Greengrass and smirked. Cheating on Blaise again, was she? Draco decided to have a laugh and surprise the two at just the right moment.

"If you're really so desperate," Daphne said. "I'll kiss you."

"No, really—"

Draco heard the distinct sound of lips on lips and took his chance. He jumped to the top of the stairs and said, "Blaise will be so hurt, Daph—" He bit his lip when he saw that Daphne wasn't really Daphne at all but her younger sister, third year Astoria.

Astoria and her little tag-a-long, Michael or Malcolm or something, tore apart and stared at Draco with wide, fearful eyes. Astoria blushed a deep crimson. "H-hello, Draco," She said quietly.

Draco managed to compose himself enough to smirk. "Should you really be out at this hour, Greengrass? Especially with your little…." He spared a glance at Malcolm, "_friend_?"

The two scrambled to their feet and Malcolm started talking a mile a minute, and Draco only caught bits and pieces. "Look it was my idea to come out here…. Astoria had nothing to do with it…. Please don't rat us out."

"Look, mate," Draco said firmly, all traces of humor gone, "No need to pull the hero card. I'm not going to turn you in."

"You're not?" Astoria asked, her surprise evident.

"No," He said, "Daphne would have my head if I got you into trouble."

"Oh!" Malcolm cried, "Thanks, Malfoy, thanks! I'm so relieved! I can't afford any detentions or poor marks or house point deductions! My mum would—"

"Will you quiet down?" Draco hissed, his eyebrows raised. "I'm not the only one patrolling, and don't think the others would be so lenient."

"Sorry," Malcolm whispered sheepishly.

"C'mon, Mal," Astoria said, tugging her friend's arm. "Let's go." She looked at Draco as they started to descend the stairs. "Thanks, Malfoy."

"Astoria?"

Draco watched her turn around, obviously surprised he had called out to her. He was a little surprised himself, but he could never pass up an opportunity to tease Daphne's younger sister. He eyed Malcolm, who was standing meekly just a few steps below. "Run along, kid," He said sharply.

Malcolm dashed down the steps without so much as sparing a glance towards his partner in crime. Said partner in crime looked offended, and when she turned to look at him, Draco noticed she was much prettier than her older sister.

"Well?" She asked a bit impatiently.

"Got yourself a boyfriend?" Draco asked with a small smirk.

Astoria blushed. "He's not my boyfriend. We're just friends."

"You go around kissing all your friends?"

"I—" She seemed to think better of it and stopped herself. "I don't have to explain this to you. It's none of your concern."

Draco smiled. "Suit yourself, Greengrass. Now get to bed before Filch catches you."

Astoria smiled too, albeit timidly, and took a few steps towards him. She leaned up on her tip-toes and brushed her lips against his cheek shyly. "Thanks for not turning us in, Draco," She said in an almost-whisper. "Goodnight."

He watched her bound down the steps of the tower. When he was sure she was gone, he reached up and touched his cheek. Shaking his head to clear the inappropriate thoughts that were starting to form, he headed back to find Pansy, thinking maybe the Greengrass sisters weren't so different after all.


	4. Pansy Spills

**A/N:** More thanks to **Astoria Clare** and **karoolis** for the encouragement! Expect more chapters in Draco's point of view. So glad you guys like it thus far. Without further adieu, I present chapter four. I had a lot of fun writing this one, and if there are any mistakes in the HP trivia, I apologize.

**Edited 2/7/13**

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**Winter, 2005**

Saturday morning came much too quickly for Astoria as she groggily rolled out of bed around nine o'clock. She stood up and stretched before stumbling her way into the bathroom.

She woke up a bit more when she saw the ghastly knot of dark hair on her head and decided to treat herself to a bath because really, for going to brunch with Daphne, she deserved it.

Astoria poured her favorite lavender bath salts into the tub of steaming hot water and stepped inside, the warmth making her skin tingle. As she slid down until only her head was above water, she sighed loudly.

A little over an hour later, Astoria pinned the last clip in place to hold up her hair and ran her hands down the front of her summer dress she dug out of the closet. It was a little early, only March, for the springy pattern, but frankly, Astoria didn't give a darn.

She grabbed her jumper, wand, and purse and apparated to the restaurant.

Arriving early as usual, Astoria requested the table by the window that her mother always liked before she remembered her mother wouldn't be joining them. She grimaced after she'd thanked the hostess because she knew Daphne would be late. Daphne was almost always late—almost always.

"Tori!" A shrill voice cried, and Astoria had to hide her horror when she saw Pansy Parkinson teetering in a pair of sky-high heels, Daphne close behind.

"Pansy?" She managed to squeak out before she was suffocated in perfume and hair and everything exuberant that was Pansy Parkinson. She looked over the witch's shoulder at her sister who shrugged with a smile.

"Sorry, Tor," Daphne said as she sat down, "But Mum did say she wouldn't be joining us. We had an extra seat so I thought, why not?"

_Why not_? There were a million reasons why _not _to invite Pansy Parkinson to their family brunch, but Astoria was sure there'd be a scene if she voiced any of them. Pansy Parkinson, of all people! Astoria would even have preferred Albion—okay, maybe not Albion—or _anyone _over Pansy Parkinson.

As they claimed their seats, Pansy asked, "So how are you, Tori? Still single? I figured. I've been doing quite well, actually. Theodore—you remember Theo, don't you?—and I have been seeing each other ever since Daphne's wedding. Isn't that splendid?"

"Yes," Astoria said a bit sarcastically. "How _splendid_."

Daphne kicked her under the table with an expression on her face that said, _watch yourself, Astoria_.

The rest of brunch passed in a blur between Pansy raving about her social life and Daphne giggling about Albion and boys from Hogwarts until Pansy said, "Say, Astoria, you know who I ran into the other day?" Before Astoria could ask _who_, she continued, "Draco Malfoy!"

"No!" Daphne cried in disbelief and excitement. "Where did you see _him_?"

"Diagon Alley!" Pansy replied just as excitedly. "He was coming out of Gringotts as I was walking in. Handsome and stoic as ever, you know. Said he wasn't seeing anyone but that he was living back and forth between a flat here in London and the Manor to take care of his mum."

"Astoria?"

Astoria glanced away from the window at Pansy as if she hadn't been listening too intently to Draco Malfoy's whereabouts. "Yes?"

"Have you spoken with Draco recently?" Pansy asked, eyes narrowing.

"No," She lied swiftly. "I haven't."

Pansy's eyes narrowed further when she said, "Really? Because he asked about you."

Daphne smirked down at her tea, and it was Astoria's turn to kick her sister's shin. "Did he?" Astoria asked as Daphne stifled a giggle. Another kick to the shin. "How peculiar, don't you think?"

Pansy pursed her lips and took a sip of her tea. "Yes, peculiar indeed. I'll tell him you're well if I see him again." She scanned the restaurant and said, "I'm in the mood for a drink."

Daphne snickered. "It's only noon, Pans. Theo's habits getting to you?"

Pansy lifted her chin and frowned. "Picking on my boyfriend, Daph? That's rich, coming from _you_."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, clutching her tea cup a little too tight. "What's that supposed to mean?" She asked in a tone too shrill to be calm.

"Nothing," Pansy said stiffly, her nose still in the air. She tucked an imaginary lock of hair behind her ear and sighed. Before Daphne could retort, Pansy turned to Astoria. "Plans tonight, dear?"

Astoria immediately wracked her mind for some sort of excuse—anything, _anything_—to keep from spending an evening with Pansy Parkinson. When all she could come up with was a trip to Flourish and Blotts, Pansy spoke for her. "Fancy a trip to the Leaky Cauldron later this evening?"

"Actually—" Astoria began, but she was cut off once again, this time by Daphne.

"It's not as if you have anything better to do," Daphne said with a bit of spite. "Mind if Albion and I tag along?"

"Not at all!" Pansy exclaimed. "I'll invite Blaise and a few others too. It'll be a little reunion."

Astoria slid down in her seat, dropping her shoulders in defeat. She silently cursed herself for being so spineless. She'd been walked all over, and now she had to suffer an entire evening with her sister, her sister's husband, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson because of it.

Daphne pursed her lips in Astoria's direction. "Don't slump," She said. "So unladylike."


	5. Biographies and Rubbish

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long, but here's chapter five (a little longer to make up for the wait). Thanks again to **karoolis**, **Coliekinz**,** Briememory**, and **lowi** for the encouraging reviews! I'm worried about how I portray Draco in this chapter-he doesn't seem quiet himself, but I'll let you decide. Reviews are always always always appreciated.

**Edited 2/7/13**

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**Spring, 2003**

Draco dashed through the crowded streets of London, intent on getting to the Leaky Cauldron not completely soaked. After eight days of rainless and occasionally sunny weather, the skies over London had released a torrential downpour that hadn't quit all morning. Draco had been foolish enough to decide to walk to the Leaky Cauldron, Merlin knows _why_.

And now, in the thick crowds, he couldn't even wave his wand and summon an umbrella.

Finally, he stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron, a few muggles carelessly bumping into him as they passed by. He quickly stepped inside, relishing in the cozy warmth and the smell of butterbeer wafting through the air.

"Morning, Draco," Hannah Longbottom called from her place behind the bar. After Tom had retired, Hannah had taken over the job as innkeeper, and she held no resentment towards Draco as most others did.

"Hannah," He said with a curt nod. He looked around the nearly empty bar. "Business slow today?"

"Not everyone comes in for a drink at ten on a Sunday morning," She replied with a smirk, wiping down the counter. "Can I getcha anything?"

Draco smiled, albeit stiffly, and said, "Not today. I might stop by later though. Tell Neville I say hello."

Hannah nodded and went back to work, leaving Draco to head towards the back wall. He pulled out his wand and tapped the required stones and after what always seemed like an eternity, the passage to Diagon Alley was open.

He stepped through and joined the small traffic of people bustling back and forth as usual. He didn't even hesitate in heading directly towards Flourish and Blotts because if he was being completely honest, it was where he spent most of his time these days.

Time was something Draco despised. There was always too much of it or too little. He either couldn't fill his days with enough things to keep him occupied or felt the hours had escaped him; today was the former. He was off work on Sundays and wasn't due to visit the Manor until late.

Hence, Flourish and Blotts. Reading always passed the time.

"Welcome, welcome," The manager greeted Draco as he did all his customers.

Draco nodded in return and looked around. Not too many people were milling about, which meant he could surely find a corner seat to pass the afternoon. Intent on looking at the nonfiction novels, he strolled right past the fiction section, or would have, had it not been for the brunette witch blocking his way, her nose buried in a book.

"Excuse me," He said, attempting to move past her. Still, she didn't move and the aisle proved too narrow for him to squeeze past. "Excuse me," He repeated, a little louder and ruder this time.

The witch finally looked up with an annoyed expression until realization dawned on her. She closed the book and smiled timidly. "Draco," She said in a rather smooth voice that Draco recognized.

"Greengrass?" He asked, his brow wrinkled.

"What?" She teased, "You don't recognize me? Figures you would remember Daphne and not me—"

"_Astoria_," He said with a chuckle. Then he sobered and frowned. "It's been years."

She smiled pleasantly. "Yes, eight now?"

"Nine," He said, swallowing the lump in his throat and recalling the night he kissed her in Hogsmeade—the last night he'd seen her. Merlin, he hoped he wasn't blushing.

"Look who's counting," Astoria said. Her smile slowly disappeared as she appraised him shamelessly. "Well, nine years certainly does look good on you."

Draco couldn't help his eyebrows lifting a bit in surprise. Was Astoria Greengrass _flirting_ with him? In the middle of Flourish and Blotts after they hadn't spoken for nine years? He smiled nonetheless.

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze from her wandering eyes. "What are you reading?" He asked.

Astoria looked down at the book in her hand as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh," She said, a bit flustered. She seemed to search for words before simply holding up the book so he could see the cover.

"_Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart," Draco read aloud. Then he smirked. "You know Lockhart's books are all rubbish, don't you? The bloke made up everything."

Astoria looked offended for a moment. Then she smiled and said, "Well, I suppose that's why it's in the fiction section, and besides, he's not a bad writer."

Draco shrugged, remaining unconvinced that Gilderoy Lockhart was anything other than a bumbling fool. He pretended not to notice when Astoria discreetly slid the book back onto the shelf, but his smirk remained.

"If you're so quick to judge books, I'd like to see what you read," She challenged.

"All right," Draco said easily. Books, he could talk about for hours. "Follow me."

He led her through the narrow winding aisles to the back corner, where nonfiction books were kept. He went for the biography section, his personal favorite. Turning around, he found Astoria already studying the titles on the spines.

Draco didn't even stop himself from staring. If she had been pretty at Hogwarts—which she definitely had been—she was absolutely stunning now. The childish features he remembered were replaced with an elegance that was alarming. Instead of the French braid he remembered, she wore her long dark hair pinned up in a tasteful bun he could have sworn he saw his mother wear once, and her hands—the nimble fingers that slid along the book spines with such grace—were longer and thinner.

He smiled to himself, thinking exactly what she had said just minutes earlier. _Nine years certainly does look good on you too_.

"Biographies? History?" Astoria said suddenly. She shook her head and looked up at him. "I'm not sure you properly understand the joy of reading."

Draco met her gaze. He frowned and said, "What's the point of reading if you don't learn anything?"

Astoria laughed and shook her head again. "I take that back," She said. "I know for sure you don't understand the joy of reading."

"Well," Draco said, sitting down in one of the arm chairs tucked into the corner—his usual spot. "I've got plenty of time and I'd appreciate if you would explain it to me."

So she sat in the chair across from him and did just that.

Astoria gestured wildly with her hands when she talked, and he learned reading was a passion of hers. He also learned, as the morning turned into afternoon, that she lived in a London flat, had just come from a very successful job interview at St. Mungo's that very morning, and that her mother was trying to start a new tradition of Saturday brunch with her two daughters.

He talked about himself a bit as well, but only when she asked. Yes, his mother was doing quite well, and yes, he had managed to get a job with the Ministry despite. He told her how he lived back and forth between the Manor to watch over his mum and the flat on the outskirts of London.

Draco finally glanced at his watch, a gift from his mum for the Holidays, and sighed. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have to visit my mum," He said apologetically, and he was actually very sorry to have to leave.

"Oh!" Astoria cried quietly. "Don't be sorry, I must have been keeping you all this time."

"You weren't," He assured her, and in a moment of sheer boldness, he added, "This was… nice. I'd like to see you again, as a matter of fact."

Astoria looked surprised and pleased at once, and then she said, "I'd like that."

Draco waited for her to continue until he realized it was his turn; he had to arrange another meeting. What had he gotten himself into? And since when did he have trouble speaking to women? "Here again, perhaps?" He blurted.

"As long as you don't harp on my book selection again," Astoria said, "I'm free on Wednesday."

"Great," He said. "Wednesday at the same time?"

She nodded.

He gave her one last smile, less stiff, and said, "It was nice seeing you again, Astoria."

She returned his grin with her own smile, and he noticed she smiled a lot. "You as well. Goodbye, Draco."

He stood for a moment, feeling very out of place in this warm bookstore with this girl he hadn't seen for nine years who wasn't exactly a girl anymore but a woman; a woman who was gorgeous and charming and had eyes the size of teacups.

Then, with one last look at her, he turned and left.


	6. A Slytherin Reunion

**A/N:** It's been a while since my last update, and I'm sorry! This chapter would not write itself for the longest time, and finally today during history class it came to me. So I don't know anything about McKinley's assassination but I do have chapter six for you. I'd like to thank all my reviewers, you guys are great! So many people have started reading this story and it just amazes me that anyone would want to read it. Anyway, I'm always grateful for reviews, and I hope you enjoy!

**Edited 2/7/13**

* * *

**Winter, 2005**

Astoria reluctantly opened her front door and found Pansy wandering the hallway while Daphne leaned against the wall with an impatient expression. They were dressed in muggle clothes that revealed a little too much skin for Astoria's taste.

When Daphne saw Astoria standing just inside the door she pushed off the wall and said, "Come on, Pans." To Astoria she said, "I don't know why you didn't let us just apparate in."

"Charms," Astoria replied, shutting the door after they were all inside. "I'm the only one coming and going anyway."

Pansy looked around with a curious expression. She pursed her lips and said, "What about _visitors_?"

The way she said _visitors_ made Astoria cringe before she replied, "I don't have visitors."

"Surprise," Pansy said without sounding the least bit shocked. She disappeared into the kitchen. "How quaint, Tori!"

Astoria gritted her teeth and looked at Daphne, who rolled her eyes and said, "She's my best friend, Astoria."

"That certainly says something about your character, doesn't it?" Astoria snapped without thinking first. She bit her lip and busied herself with clearing the small breakfast table of books, picking up yesterday's copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and ignoring her sister's glare as she tossed it in the waste basket.

Astoria thought she was rather justified to resent Pansy. For being rude and shallow, for being her sister's maid of honor, for insulting Astoria every chance she received; certainly those were reason enough for a little dislike.

"You forgot to do the dishes," Pansy said airily when she re-entered the front room that also doubled as the breakfast and sitting room.

Astoria vaguely remembered the pot she'd used to make soup last night and frowned. "Thanks," Was all she said.

"Well, get dressed," Pansy said. "We don't have all evening."

Astoria opened her mouth and closed it, looking for something to say. She didn't own anything that remotely resembled the clothes her sister and Pansy wore. Maybe a skirt she used to wear to the London clubs with Malcolm and Elsie but—

"Wear jeans or a skirt or something, but we're late already," Daphne said.

Astoria ended up wearing the black skirt she usually wore to the clubs with Malcolm and Elsie—on the rare occasion she went with them—and put on some heels that should keep Pansy satisfied.

Still, all she got was a nod from Daphne and pursed lips from Pansy before they disapparated from Astoria's flat.

When they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, and a witch and wizard Astoria didn't recognize sat at a booth in the corner, laughing loudly at something.

Pansy immediately made their presence known with a loud and grandeur hello. She ordered a butterbeer from Hannah and rushed to the table with Daphne.

Astoria was a bit more hesitant. She knew these people well; they were her sister's closest friends after all. But she always felt somewhat out of place among their close-knit group.

"Astoria!" The man she hadn't recognized called to her. As she neared the table, Astoria realized the wizard was Gregory Goyle, looking a bit slimmer but still quite large in the small booth. He waved his drink at her, and Astoria wondered if he was already sloshed.

"Astoria," Goyle said again, "this is my girlfriend, Celine."

Astoria smiled politely and Celine waggled her fingers in greeting.

"Sit down, Astoria," Daphne said with a laugh. "Have a drink!"

Astoria sat, squeezing into the round booth next to Celine. She tuned into the conversation at the table, already buzzing with talk of Daphne's _marvelous_ wedding—still the subject of many a conversation, much to the satisfaction of her mother. The very thought of the whole event made Astoria's stomach churn.

"The décor!" Millicent cooed, resting her chin in her palm in a dreamy sort of way. "It was perfect, Daph."

Daphne swelled with pride and casually mentioned approximately how much that _décor _had cost, and admiration shown in everyone's eyes, except Astoria's, of course.

"Listen up," Pansy interrupted, directing all eyes towards her. "You'll never guess who I saw in Diagon Alley the other day!"

Several names were blurted out and Astoria finally said, "Draco Malfoy."

Pansy scowled in Astoria's direction, her fun ruined. "Must you spoil _everything_, Tori?" She said coldly.

Astoria was about to retort, but Pansy continued on with mild interruptions for others at the table. "Yes, well, I ran into Draco Malfoy and—Oh, yes, Millie, he's as handsome as the devil!—I'm surprised he can even show his face but I suppose it has been years, hasn't it?"

Astoria listened to the chatter half-heartedly because why should she be interested in anything about Draco Malfoy? She hadn't seen him since—

"Oh, look! There he is now!"

Astoria swiveled around and saw Draco Malfoy walking towards the table. She turned back to Pansy, her eyes wide. "Pansy," She hissed at the perky witch who looked entirely too pleased with herself, "Did you invite him here?"

"Of course I did," Pansy said, inspecting her nails. "He wasn't too keen at first, but then I mentioned _you_ would be here, Tori. Not that I had invited you at the time, but the bribe seemed to catch his interest."

Astoria could have hexed Pansy into oblivion for not mentioning all this at brunch earlier in the day, but she held her tongue and simmered. And she especially refused to meet Daphne's determined gaze. She stared at the water stains on the table as Draco approached.

"Malfoy!" Goyle said with a cheery sort of surprise, getting up to shake Draco's hand. "It's been too long."

"Or not long enough," Draco said, and Astoria could practically _hear_ the smirk on his face. "It's been a while. How goes it?" He asked.

But Astoria didn't bother listening to the replies because Draco slid into the seat next to her and threw his arm over the back of her chair—like it was sixth year and they were back at the Three Broomsticks, like they were even friends or maybe something more.

"Can I get you a drink?" Draco whispered, leaning in so she could smell him—spice and cigarette smoke, still the same.

"Please," She found herself saying.

When Draco went up to the bar for a butter beer, Astoria wanted to shrink into the wood of the booth seat. Everyone was staring at her in relative states of surprise; Pansy's eyebrows nearly touched her hairline, Millicent and Blaise looked at her suspiciously while whispering to each other, and Daphne wore an all-too familiar smirk. Theo, Goyle, and Celine were engaged in their own sort of conversation, and Astoria was actually grateful.

Draco returned, setting the butter beer on the table and sliding back into place beside Astoria, closer than before. "So," He said, swinging his arm around Astoria again. "Where's Flint these days?"

Blaise snorted. "Reckon he got himself locked up in Azkaban by now, wouldn't you think, Nott?"

"Doubt it," Theodore said with a shake of his head. "Petty crimes, you know. Maybe got a slap on the wrist from the Ministry but nothing deserving of Azkaban."

Draco nodded and took a sip of Astoria's drink. "Always knew he was a train wreck."

There was a mottled agreement throughout the group, and Astoria frowned, not having heard any news of Marcus Flint's whereabouts in the past eight years. He was a few years older than she, and he always terrified her.

As per usual, conversation reverted back to Hogwarts days, recalling Slytherins Astoria never knew and didn't really care about. She guarded her butter beer from Draco and listened to a recollection of the time Blaise and Daphne were caught together in the broom cupboard fifth year.

Draco's hand moved to Astoria's shoulder and he pulled her closer before whispering in her ear, "Want to get out of here?"

And she said yes before she could stop herself. She took his outstretched hand and muttered an excuse to the rest of the table.

He led her outside the pub into the dark London street. With an easy smile he asked, "How've you been, Greengrass?"


	7. Malfoy Manor

**A/N:** I meant to update a while ago. So sorry! This chapter is really short, but that's because I'm going to make the next one a little longer than usual. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, they mean so much. I'd love if you could keep them coming because they really help the writing process. Seriously, it's like having your own little cheering section. Enjoy!

**Edited 2/7/13**

* * *

**Spring, 2003**

No matter how many times he visited the Manor, Draco was always proud of how grand it looked, even after years without care of the grounds, there was a certain air about the place. When he was younger, he hated the Manor. It was big and scary and he wasn't allowed to go in many of the rooms.

One room in particular was his father's study. After his father's death—heart failure—two years ago, Draco claimed the study as his own. He didn't change anything or remove any of his father's possessions. Sometimes he sat behind the large, stately desk and tried to imagine the Dark Lord sitting there, or maybe his father at one point.

Narcissa respected Draco's privacy in that room, and she never entered unless he ushered her in. This particular afternoon, Draco was tinkering with one of his father's enchanted books when he heard his mother's soft knock on the door.

"Come in," He said, dropping the book in a desk drawer and slamming it shut.

Narcissa opened the door and leaned against the door jam. Narcissa Malfoy was once a very attractive woman. She had the signature Black family nose, the dark hair, the high cheekbones, but now she just looked old, worn out from fighting too many battles. "You look like your father sitting there," She said softly, a tired smile stretching across her face.

"Not sure that's a good thing," Draco replied, pushing his chair back.

Narcissa moved across the room and sat on the plush sofa in front of the fireplace. She beckoned for Draco to join her, and he did without hesitation. Her hand moved to rest against his cheek. "You've got his devilish good looks. You always were your father's son—"

"Mum, please," Draco stopped her as his ears burned red. "I'm nothing like him."

"You are though," Narcissa continued. "You have his pride, and—"

"Except I didn't go around killing people left and right," Draco snapped, and he quickly braced himself for a slap. "At least on purpose," He added quietly.

Narcissa's face remained calm, and her hands were folded in her lap. "He never forgave himself for what he put you through. You were a child; you didn't know what was wrong and what was right."

Draco wanted to stop talking about this. He really, really, _really_ wanted to stop talking about this. His mum was always telling him things like this—how happy she was to have him around, how much he reminded her of his father, how much she loved him—and he could hardly stand the pity in her eyes.

"Remember the Greengrass girl?" He said, eager for a new subject.

"Daphne? Of course, her mother and I went to Hogwarts together. She was a lovely girl, Daphne, always—"

"No, I meant her sister, Astoria."

Narcissa paused and frowned. "I don't recall her having a sister. What about her, love?"

"Ran into her in Flourish and Blotts today."

Narcissa turned sideways and smiled slyly. "Is she pretty, Draco?"

Draco recalled the grace with which Astoria's nimble fingers flew over the book spines, her high cheekbones, the way her hair—

"She must be. You've never been one to blush," His mother cooed, drawing attention to his reddening ears. "Does she fancy you?"

"She's always fancied me, Mum, since third year," Draco said, but a firm look from Narcissa made him backtrack. His mother never tolerated his snide remarks. "She has though," He protested quietly.

"She doesn't have any reason not to," Narcissa said, pushing his hair back from his face. "My little prince."

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes and stood up. "I have to be going. Have to stop by the Ministry to pick up a few things for work."

Narcissa sighed and got to her feet. "You don't really need that job, you know."

"I know," Draco said, grabbing his cloak. "But it keeps me busy."

His mother kissed his cheek and said, "I love you, my dear."

With a brief nod, he disapparated.


	8. Too Much Pride

**A/N:** I want to start by thanking everyone who has reviewed the last few chapters! Many thanks to **lowi**, **AnnieBananie97**, **TheIridescentDreamer**, **latenightsanddarkeyes**,**Briememory**, and **emilyswain** for their support. The feedback is so helpful and encouraging; still in shock that anyone's reading this at all. Anyway, this is the follow-up to chapter six if the beginning confuses you. Here's chapter eight, R&R por favor!

**Edited 2/7/13**

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**Winter, 2005**

"I've been better," Astoria said, and her voice was sharper than she had intended it to be. She crossed her arms against the evening chill and stepped out of the way of the pedestrians walking the streets.

He frowned. "What's eating you?"

"What's eating _me_," Astoria said, "is that you showed up tonight _knowing_ I'd be here. You show up to the pub as if nothing's changed, you sit down and buy me a drink as if you still—you still—"

"Still, what, Astoria?" Draco asked with a sneer. "Still fancy you? If that's it then yes, I do. Never stopped."

"You didn't want anything to do with me," She accused, tears pricking her eyes. "You left."

His eyes darkened. "It was important, I swear it."

"Important enough to skip out on my sister's wedding? Important enough to not even write a note? I wake up and you're gone, and—you know what?" Astoria stopped and shook her head. Merlin's beard, she was standing on a street corner yelling at Draco Malfoy. "This is ridiculous," She said aloud. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Now's as good a time as any, don't you think?" Draco said. He looked at the pub and then back to her. "Let me buy you another drink."

"You can't even apologize," Astoria said, not even bothering to hide her disbelief.

"I'm _trying_," Draco replied. "But I'm not going to beg, if that's what you want."

"No, you certainly won't," Astoria said in a nasty tone. "You've too much pride for that."

"And you're a saint, aren't you?" Draco snapped, on the attack now. He stepped towards her, every inch of his face set hard with anger. "Daphne Greengrass's little sister who's much too sweet to be in Slytherin. You've got more pride in that name than anyone I've ever met—"

"Stop it," Astoria said. This was all too familiar; the rows, the small digs that she was sure was what drove him away in the first place. It was their downfall in the end, and it would figure that the first time they saw each other again they would fall just easily into old habits.

"Just," Draco paused, ran his hand across his face, and frowned, "let me buy you a drink."

"A drink won't fix everything, Draco," Astoria pointed out with a sigh.

"No," Draco said, taking her hand and pulling her in the direction of the pub, "but it's a start."

As it turned out, getting sloshed on Draco Malfoy's tab didn't fix anything, but it did ease Astoria's nerves. Plus she and Pansy were actually getting along. Maybe it was the several firewhiskeys each person had downed, evidence clear in the numerous empty glasses scattered across the table top.

"Astoria," Pansy said, resting a clammy manicured hand on Astoria's arm. "I've always liked you. You're so pretty."

Astoria giggled because what could she say to that? She reached for the firewhiskey she'd been sharing with Draco, but he plucked it out of her hands.

"You've had a bit much, don't you think?" He asked with a smirk.

"Worried I'll drink your vault dry, Malfoy?" She cooed, leaning in until their foreheads pressed together. He smelled nice, like mint and some sort of musky scent Astoria couldn't quite place.

He leaned back, just out of reach, and put a gentle hand to her chest, giving her a little nudge so she fell back against the booth in a fit of giggles. She stopped though because she remembered she was mad at him. Astoria looked across the table for Daphne to tell her sister just why she was angry at Draco Malfoy, but Daphne was completely gone, hanging all over Blaise as if she wasn't a married woman. Astoria frowned, "Daphne—"

"I think it's time to go," Draco said, putting a hand under Astoria's elbow. He gently pulled her from the booth and turned up the corners of his mouth in a slight smile towards the group. "We'll be off. Nice catching up with you all."

"You two have fun!" Pansy said loudly.

"But—not," Daphne struggled for words, frowning when her tongue wouldn't work properly. "Not too much fun!"

She and Pansy erupted with laughter, slumping against each other with tears in their eyes. Draco and Astoria were forgotten, and Draco took his chance to drag Astoria out into the London streets.

"Still living at our flat?" Draco asked her.

Astoria frowned when he said _our_, but a hiccup escaped her before she could protest. "I—um, yes."

"Then hold on," Draco said, clasping her hand.

Then she was soaring, the tingling feeling that comes with apparating moving through her body, and then she was standing in the foyer of her flat, still holding Draco's hand.

She let him lead her to her bedroom since the floor was tilting at odd angles and making it very hard for her to stand. Astoria collapsed on her bed after kicking off her heels. The clip she'd used to put up her hair dug into the back of her head so she reached around to pull it out, but it was proving difficult because she was very dizzy.

Draco slapped her hand out of the way and gently pulled out the clip, letting her hair tumble over her shoulders. Then Astoria slipped under her duvet, still fully dressed, and pulled Draco down so he sat beside her. "Are you going to leave again?" She blurted, and she could tell even through her dizziness that her words stung him.

Good, she thought. It served the wanker right.

"I'll stay if you want me to," Draco said in a very un-Draco-like manner. He started to scoot over on the bed in an attempt to lie down, but Astoria whipped a pillow at his face and said, "The couch is actually quite comfortable."

Draco grumbled and sat up, taking the pillow in his hands.

Astoria put a hand on his arm and said, "Thank you, Draco."

He didn't reply, just slipped out of her grasp and when she blinked, he was gone.


	9. Lilacs and Stupid Ties

**A/N:** Hello again, everyone! First off, before you all attempt murder, I want to apologize for the gap in updates (almost five months, oh my gosh, I'm SO SORRY!). I was having a really tough time pushing through this chapter because it was hard to pivot this in the direction I wanted it to go. Hopefully, I'll get this story back on track within the next month and you'll be receiving regular updates again!

I'm still shocked at the response this story has gotten (a lot of favoriting and story alerts going on). Remember, reviews are always really appreciated. (Many thanks to**Slytherinfangirl**, **shiftingful**, **AnnieBananie97**, **aleera**, and** lowi** for the feedback!)

**WARNING**: the following chapter is rated T for allusions to sex? I am terrible with ratings. I think you're all smart enough to figure it out though.

So without further adieu, I present chapter nine!

**Edited 2/7/13**

* * *

**Spring, 2003**

"Do you even know how to count muggle money?" Astoria asked him with a giggle as Draco fumbled with the flimsy paper notes.

He scowled half-heartedly and dropped the bills in frustration. "No," He admitted reluctantly, "and frankly, I don't care. The shifty bloke can keep it as gratuity for all I care, let's just go."

Draco stood up and offered her his hand, still reveling in how breathtaking she looked. As they walked past the crowded tables, heads turned, and Draco felt a small swell of pride at the attention, even if they were just muggles.

He had a beautiful woman on his arm and he'd just blown forty pounds on dinner—however much that was. Things were certainly looking up. He wondered how much convincing she would need to apparate back to his flat and—

Draco stopped himself because he remembered this wasn't just any witch he was taking to dinner, this was Astoria Greengrass, and she'd probably hex him into oblivion if he so much as mentioned the word _flat_.

He looked down at the witch in question and there was another swell of pride in his chest. She _was _breathtaking in her slinky black dress that showed off the curves that hadn't existed nine years ago. Her dress left just enough to the imagination, and _Merlin's beard_, Draco was imagining.

He could withstand a few hexes, Draco thought as a few men gazed at Astoria unabashedly from their tables. He led her outside into the warm evening.

"Care for a drink?" He asked her.

Astoria smiled in that way that all women do—the one that says _I know what you're trying to do_—before she said, "I'd love one."

When they had apparated to a muggle bar across the town and downed a few drinks, Astoria said, "I didn't think you'd be so comfortable around muggles."

Draco grimaced into his glass and replied, "I'm not."

Astoria laughed and rested her hand on his arm, scooting closer. "Are you doing all this to impress me?" She asked in a sultry voice that sounded nothing like Astoria.

Draco stared at her for several seconds, noting the few stray curls that had escaped her bun, the rosy tint of her cheeks that came from the Muggle drinks, the way her lips parted just slightly—

"Do you want to get out of here?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he waited for the hex that didn't come.

"I'd love to," Astoria said, sliding off the bar stool and wobbling a little before standing upright.

Draco tossed a few Muggle bills on the counter, not even bothering to look at how much he'd paid. He led Astoria out into the chilly night air, and only the shift in temperature seemed to sober him up.

"I'll take you home now?" He said, a bit unsure.

Astoria nodded mutely and grasped his hand. She disapparated them before Draco could stop her, and he only hoped she was coherent enough not to get one of them splinched.

They ended in the hallway of an apartment building, and Astoria pulled her wand out of her small clutch and whispered to the door, "_Alohomora_."

She turned to Draco, eyebrows raised. "I think you've enjoyed yourself. The muggle world isn't so bad, is it?"

"Still wouldn't… _mate_ with one," He replied lightly.

Astoria bit her lip to hold back a smile, and Draco was embarrassed at how much he wanted to kiss her.

Going against his better judgment was something Draco did rarely, but Astoria didn't seem to protest when he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. In fact, she kissed him back with just as much fervor, if not more. She grabbed the lapels of his muggle suit coat and moved herself closer.

Draco wasn't sure if he was going to get another chance, so he thought, _piss it all to hell_ and pushed her back against the door, deepening the kiss. He eased her lips apart with his tongue, and she obliged almost immediately. He quickly moved from her lips to her neck and couldn't help but run his hands along the curves her dress so generously displayed.

Astoria began eliciting wonderful little sounds as she fumbled to get the door open, and they practically fell through it together. She tugged him by his tie, the one that cost more than the dinner they'd just eaten, and he let her yank off his suit coat and toss it away. Meanwhile he worked on the buttons on the back of her dress.

"Bloody hell," He muttered against her collar bone as he fumbled with the damn buttons. "There's got to be a hundred of them."

She giggled and replied huskily, "There's only four, actually."

"Was this dress expensive?"

She gasped when he hit a particularly sensitive spot on her neck and stuttered, "Not—not really, why?"

It was all the prompting he needed to rip the dress off and send a few buttons flying through the air. Instead of getting angry as he thought she would, she yanked him once more by his stupid tie so they toppled together onto her bed.

She pulled off his tie and expertly tore off his shirt. She paused for a moment as if inspecting him, and he assumed she was impressed because she ran a reverent hand down his chest and stomach. He shivered under her touch.

He worked at the clasp on her bra and cursed after several failed attempts to undo it. Finally, on the third try, he got it and tossed it aside to expose her. He immediately kissed her again and then moved south, across her jaw, down the slope of her neck, the swell of her breasts.

When she began to undo his belt buckle, he froze. "Are you sure?" He asked.

"_Yes_," She said so quickly he started. "Merlin, yes. Just—just _please _get your trousers off _now_."

Draco let out a bark of laughter and did as she insisted, kissing her all the while.

A while later, she curled herself against him, and he draped the sheet around them both in a bit of a daze. _Merlin's beard_, he'd just had sex with Astoria Greengrass.

"Mmm," She hummed against his chest. "Stay."

"'Course," He replied. He listened to her breathing, the rise and fall of her chest against his, until the pattern evened out and she was asleep. Only then did he close his eyes, aware of the softness of her skin and the faint scent of lilacs.


	10. Late Night Baking

**AN: **Okay so I owe anyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, or followed this story a huge massive apology. You might have thought I abandoned you but I promise this is not the case. It's been a long, complicated editing process for the past... year? I don't even know, I'm just really lazy and it took too long. So I'm very sorry for the wait, but here is chapter 10! Please leave a review.

P.S. Some minor details have been tweaked in previous chapters, nothing major, but dates have been added for convenience! Enjoy!

* * *

**Fall, 2004**

"Will Malcolm and I see you at dinner tonight?"

Astoria looked up from her parchment and smiled at Elsie. "I'll have to check with Draco, he said something about taking control of our kitchen tonight."

"_Your_ kitchen, you mean?" Elsie raised an eyebrow pointedly.

Astoria flushed under her friend's gaze. Over the past month or so, Elsie had so kindly pointed out that Draco and Astoria were sort of maybe definitely living together. Astoria disagreed. It was just more convenient for Draco to keep some spare clothes at her flat because that's where they spent most nights and if his cologne and toothbrush and shampoo ended up in her bathroom it was only out of convenience. And selling his flat was only logical because between her place and the manor, he never spent any time there so why waste the money.

But not once did they talk about living together. It was just a convenient arrangement, and what would happen if she did bring up the subject and they weren't on the same page? She didn't want to spoil anything, since the whole affair was very low-key and enjoyable just the same.

"My kitchen," Astoria agreed, clearing her throat.

Elsie slapped her armful of parchment onto her desk. "Tor, if you'd just speak with him! He's your boyfriend, not a goblin. It can't fall completely to shit if you just _ask_."

"But it _can_," Astoria said. She slouched back in her chair. "He's perfect, Elsie."

"Nobody's perfect. Especially Draco Malfoy. He's a _Malfoy_ for Merlin's sake. You could do much better if you ask me, but he treats you just fine, so I can't complain."

"I'm going to make a mess of it either way. What if I ask him and he gets scared?"

Elsie smiled condescendingly. "If he gets scared, he's sick in the head and you shouldn't be with him. But he won't. You're making this out to be more than it is."

Astoria nodded, her forehead starting to ache from pinching her eyebrows together with worry. She turned back to her work, and Elsie smacked her hand away from her mouth (she wasn't even aware she'd been chewing her nails, goodness she was gone on this man). Elsie was right, Draco wasn't perfect, but Astoria was pretty positive he was the closest she'd ever find. He had a dark past, but they both did, coming from pureblood families and he'd gotten mixed up in something much larger than he imagined when he was just a boy. She didn't blame him for any of it. They were all kids, young and swayed by the views of their parents.

Draco had changed. She had changed. It was a fresh start for both of them.

"So you'll ask him then?"

Astoria started, looking at Elsie. "Yes, I'll ask."

/\\  
\\/

That evening when she returned from dinner with Malcolm and Elsie, her flat smelled of fresh baked goods and honey. She followed the scent into the kitchen, where she found Draco at the bench top, spattered with flour and other ingredients, though everything else was surprisingly clean.

She leaned against the door jam and watched him work, completely unaware of the soft smile on her face. Draco moved gracefully to the oven door and retrieved a steaming pan of biscuits.

He turned around suddenly, letting the oven door slam. They both jumped at the sound and he smiled. "Watching me?"

She blushed. "What of it?"

"As long as you're enjoying the view," He said cheekily. He gestured to the cooling rack on the bench top. "How was dinner?"

"Good," She said, stepping into the kitchen. Draco's hands quickly found her waist under her jumper and she flushed even more. "Baking?"

"Trying to," He said, too preoccupied rubbing circles and raising goose bumps across her skin. He leaned in, inhaling against her neck, and pressed his lips against the sensitive skin there. His voice dropped to a whisper. "But I've given up. Bed time?"

Astoria let her eyes slip closed and bit her lip. "Bed time," She agreed.

He paused only to turn off the oven and pushed her out of the kitchen, kissing her senseless and never letting his hands leave her body. They fell backwards onto the bed, shoving out of the way a few of his ties and one of her bras, and Draco focused all of his attention on her neck, her collar bone.

Astoria turned her head to allow him better access, and that was when she noticed the small stack of worn paperbacks on the bedside table. Not one of the titles she recognized, all of them being biographies or historical recordings. She knew they had to be Draco's. Of course he kept his books here. His watch was sitting next to the clock and his suits were in her closet and he baked in her kitchen when she wasn't even home.

"Draco," She gasped.

"What," He demanded against her neck. He moved to her lips and kissed her firmly, mistaking her gasp for pleasure.

She forgot for a second what she wanted to say, opening her mouth and meeting her tongue with his. Then she pulled back, "Draco."

He opened his eyes and looked down at her. "Yes?"

She swallowed, suddenly nervous. "Do we—are you—why did you sell your flat?"

His face immediately twisted into confusion. "I—pardon?"

"Why did you sell your flat? Is it because you couldn't afford it? Your mother needed you around? Or do you—do you live here? With me, I mean? Because you don't have to if that's too much but I'm just wondering because—well, I don't know why. I just—yeah." She bit down on her lip to keep herself from spewing any more idiotic babble.

Draco stared down at her, his face a mixture of confusion and something she couldn't quite place. "Are you asking me if I live with you?"

"Yes," She squeaked, so mortified she couldn't even look at him. She focused on a smear of flour on his cheek instead.

"Astoria," He said, "Please look at me."

She managed to make eye contact with him and turned redder than she thought possible, which made him smile. "If you're asking me to live with you, you're a lot thicker than I thought you were," When she opened her mouth to protest, he went on. "I already live here, love. Have been for a little while now if you've not noticed. My only concern is, do you _mind_?"

"Mind what?"

"Me, living here, with you," He said.

"No!" She exclaimed a bit too forcefully. "I mean, no, obviously."

"Obviously," He repeated with a smile. He pressed his forehead against hers. "I love you, Astoria. I thought you should know. That's not an expectation, you don't owe me the same, I just want you to know."

"I love you," She said earnestly. "I really do."

He kissed her then, long and hard until speaking was unnecessary.


End file.
